


Catalyst

by Corvueros



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din Djarin is a little shit and he knows it, Din Djarin/Reader - Freeform, Dirty Talk, F/M, I like a little SUBSTANCE with my porn thank u very much, In Public, Like embarrassingly filthy talk, Mando has zero tact and we love him for it, Mando/Reader - Freeform, Public Sex, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, The Mandalorian/Reader - Freeform, The reader just needs a nap lmao, and by substance I mean absolute bullshit, the mandalorian/you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24517807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvueros/pseuds/Corvueros
Summary: He got what he wanted and yet....He knows it's wrong and what he should be doing is helping you but something dark and twisted urges him to push you far beyond your limits. For once he wanted you to lose your mind over absolutely nothing so he can finally be someone for you to lean on.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 203





	Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> Come harass me on tumblr @Corvueros  
> Let me be the first to say: I'm so, so sorry.

There was a pretty big language barrier no matter where you go in the galaxy. 

You practiced as many as you could, even if it’s just the basics. Realistically, it was part of the job. You’d have a hard time trying to strike a deal with someone if you couldn’t even stutter your way through a sentence. 

But, every one of them was a bit different or stranger than the last. You’d pride yourself in the unusual array of dialects you had picked up on but sometimes, some phrases were universal. 

That ol’ Sol system saying “don’t put all your eggs in one basket” seemed to transcend every language gap as you stood over thousands of credits worth of illegal narcotics gone rancid. 

To be fair, your ‘one basket’ was safe and secure until the damn maintenance crew got their grubby little hands on it. 

Who, much to your annoyance, all dipped before you could chew them out when the Mandalorian purposefully rounded the corner. 

“What happened?” Mando stalked his way up the ramp behind you, visor trained on the oozing substance staining the floor of your ship. 

“Coolant system is busted,” You grumbled, mostly to yourself as you yank the chemical waste tank off the wall and hover it over the massive amount of credits leaking onto the floor. 

“Didn’t you hire that maintenance crew?” He moved silently around you, scooping up your long-forgotten datapad. 

You opted not to answer him and attempt to settle your breathing. That was enough of an answer for him. Sure, the crew managed to calibrate the docking system but completely fried your coolant system in the process. You had rounded the corner just in time to see them scrambling to engage the decontamination process- and failing miserably. 

He kept his jaw firmly snapped shut, silently watching your chest heave as you made relatively quick work of the waste. His pulse raced in unwarranted excitement. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and shoulders high with tension when you finally knocked the vacuum away. 

Your sigh deflated you, hands unclenching at your sides. There was no use in getting angry, not when you had work to do. It was easy enough, just get another stabilizer and… gods, you were trying really hard not to think about how much money you just lost. You pushed your hair up and out of your face, dragging your hand down over the bridge of your nose as you wracked your god-forsaken mind palace for anything at this point and-

“…Told you they weren’t worth it.”

Whoo boy. You sighed, again. 

And that’s how you ended up here: camped suspiciously outside an established business with a Mandalorian. It would have been less effective to hang a sign over your head saying “arrest me!” 

“Remind me what we are doing here?” Mando stood against the wall opposite you, arms crossed and visor steadily trained on you. He’d stopped fiddling with his vambrace after the first hour, apparently finding interrogating you to be more entertaining you supposed. You ignored his gaze, like you had been for the last hour in favor of watching the door of the hanger like a hawk. 

“Like I said last time, we’re waiting for Kahn to close up the hanger,” You acknowledged him wearily, “He has a legitimate business to run and I’m not going to- are you even listening.” Your eyes slid over to Mando, fiddling with his vambrace once again. 

“No.” Of course he was listening, there was hardly a time the Mandalorian wasn’t listening to everything you had to say. This was no different.

Only it was different from any other time.

“Figures.” You mutter loud enough for him to hear but say nothing else, dropping the subject in favor of silently watching the city fall asleep as the hours drag on. You wanted to dig the heels of your palms against your eyes. The Mandalorian had been grating your nerves ever since you both departed from the hanger, for reasons unknown to you. Frankly, you were going to bring it up with him later when this whole headache blew over but he was making it frustratingly difficult to keep your cool in the meantime.

All the while, the Mandalorian watched you silently bury your frustration. He watched the anger simmer in your stormy eyes but you kept your mouth stubbornly shut. He’d been watching you go through the same cycle for hours and the more he instigated, the faster you’d shut him down. The longer he watched, the more infatuated he became. Infatuated with the way you gripped your blaster with enough conviction to kill a man. Or when you unconsciously tangle your fingers through your hair nervously, 

Your temper, evidently, was not as easily stoked as his was but there was a limit before he began to feel ridiculous for getting worked up over anything. Not when you’d swoop in and take care of the problem, most of the time with the business end of your blaster, then move on. Din had a remarkably hard time getting you to admit to any worries or concerns that you had, not when you had your nose buried deep in your work. 

Until he happened upon you in a private fit of rage.

He was early, for once, but stopped real quick when he happened upon you disarming a particularly bold thug- ‘ radan ’ you had snarled down at him as your fist collided with the side of his face. There was something about the way your hands tightened around the man’s throat as you handled him roughly in the empty street that had the Mandalorian flushing uncomfortably under the helm. Your heated glare sent a chill down his spine and had him throbbing hard on sight. Highly embarrassing at the time, and every time after that. He struggled to focus the entire rest of the day not to mention trying to hide his raging hard-on that throbbed to life every time you so much as glanced in his direction. 

He’s never seen you that angry, that ruthless before and in the cover of night, he furiously fisted his cock to the image of you with your hands around that man’s throat. 

It sent him spiraling when he’d see hints of that quiet rage under the surface, but you’d quell it immediately. That anger dampened by the wave of exhaustion floating over you like a blanket most nights. Something twisted his gut and begged him to push you to lose your temper. To shove you off that ledge and make you lose that careful control you held onto so tightly. 

And he wanted to be the one to do it. 

The frustrating thing is, when you weren’t working, you’ve got about five whole brain cells to your name and they are all stretched thin between chemical timetables, your ship and driving the Mandalorian up the wall. Which, now that he thinks about it, isn’t much different than how he feels when you do work, but instead, all five are scrambling to try and keep your cool. It’s admittedly amusing to watch and only served to fuel his aching cock. 

Regardless- point is: you drive Din Djarin crazy and he desperately wants to fuck that rage right out of you until you cry. 

Okay, that was a bit much but not far from the truth, and he was beside himself on what to do about it. He could only hope to drive you close enough to madness and stun you enough to even consider letting him take the reins like that. 

The hanger doors slid open after years of suffering under the Mandalorian’s critical gaze and you were up and on your feet in record time, stepping out under the bright lights littered over the street.

“About damn time,” your voice reverberated off the walls, the man’s shoulders shooting up to his ears. He swiveled around sharply, eyeing you critically before his brows settled deep on his face.

“Fuckin’ scared me, you little shit.” He slurred and jerked away with a leer.

“The hell are you getting out so late for?” You snap, stalking towards him. Mando strayed behind, close to the wall with the heel of his palm on his blaster. This wasn’t someone he’d seen you work with before but he couldn’t say he saw any of your other clients calling you anything besides your last name without getting a busted lip.

The older humanoid didn’t answer you with anything but a grumble as he turned his back to you to fiddle with the locking mechanism. 

“Got a busted stabilizer for the coolant tanks, five hundred credits.” You’re close enough to see him swipe the lock once, twice and a third time before actually managing to lock the door.

“Seven,” he pointed a mangled finger at you, “and don’t give me that bullshit about not having the credits.”

“I won’t but you know damn well seven is more than you’re worth.” You argue back, hoping your voice was sounding as level as you needed it to be.

“You pay for hookers more expensive than that.” He snarls vehemently back at you, fumbling with the bundle of schematics under his arm and dropping several in the process.

“It’s worth the investment, you on the other hand, are not.” you accentuate far-too politely while bending down and sweeping them up effortlessly, “You know I’m good for the money, and you could use the cash.” 

“Fuck you, I’m doing fine.” He stumbled pathetically into the side of the building, and down on his knees. His undignified noise clogged your ears and increased your headache ten-fold. You watch him slump over after feebly attempting to catch himself. 

Your sigh was loud and it rang in Din’s ears. 

But a cruel thought entered his mind. A cruel and unexpectedly heated thought as he watched you tower over the severely inebriated man. A thought that quite literally drained all blood from his head, down to his dick. He felt dizzy, getting wrapped up in imagining you furiously pushing down on his lap as you fucked away all of the pent up anger and stress of the day. 

It was bullshit, all of it, and he saw right through the twitch in your fingers and knew it was getting to you too. 

“I’ll give you the cost of materials and ten percent- that’s it and far more than you should be paid.” You say, your voice ever-steady as you shifted your weight onto one foot, “especially after that little stunt on Corellia.” He nodded pathetically, finally giving in after his feeble attempts at clawing his way back up obviously weren’t working.

“For fucks sake, Khan…” you sounded like you were scolding a child instead of a man twice your age, as you yanked him up and off the ground.

The poor guy couldn’t hide his embarrassment as you ushered him down the right street to get home, “get to the hanger early, I need to be gone by noon.” You say, leaving zero room for argument. 

You run a hand through your hair, nose scrunching slightly as you watch the man hobble off. 

“Absolutely useless, honestly- I-I…I gotta find that stabilizer,” the resentment was bitter in your voice as you brought a hand up to your face, trying to rub away the fatigue from your eyes. 

Din had a whole two seconds to try and think of something smart to say.

“We should be gone by tonight, you know that right?” he barked at you, far too cruelly in his own eyes.

“For fucks sake, Mando-” you ground out, aggressively running your fingers through your hair. Your tone set his teeth on edge but you cut yourself off. A deep sigh spilled from your chest as you turned away from him a bit, brows furrowed together menacingly. 

“Am I wrong? We should have been gone hours ago- why did you even need a maintenance crew in the first place?” He moves purposely into your line of sight, gripping that life-line and tugging in hopes of getting you to budge just a little bit more . 

You spun on your heel, eyes blazing as you glare at him, “Because we should have been gone hours ago, you’re right, and I needed the damn docking system back up and running.” He knew that already. 

“Load of good that did- how,” He stepped towards you, your icy gaze watching his every move, “just how much was all that worth?” 

“What does it matter? It’s already done.” 

“It matters a hell of a lot more than you’re letting on.” He pushed harder, standing toe to toe with you. You could see yourself reflected in the beskar, image warped and clouded in the darkness in the middle of the streets. A flash of embarrassment blazed through you, arguing like this in public regardless of the desolateness of the street, where you stood far too close to the Mandalorian to even breathe right. 

You stared him dead in the eye, much to his delight, neck craning up and matching the intensity of his stare. Among the anger he sees confusion and weariness come and go across your features and it just about eviscerates him where he stands.

You voice is much quieter than his own when you speak but the heat of it punches him in the gut, “It was a lot, a fuck ton in fact, but sitting here arguing over it isn’t helping us get off this damn planet any fucking faster.” Your voice was a harsh whisper as you got in his face. He watched you scowl, lines hardening on your face and he wanted nothing more than to make those big doe-eyes of yours all soft and weepy again. 

But there it was. He got what he wanted and yet….He knows it’s wrong and what he should be doing is comforting you and helping you but something dark and twisted urges him to push you far beyond your limits. For once, he just wanted you to lose your mind over literally nothing so he can finally be someone for you to lean on. 

He was immensely grateful for the helmet because if you could have seen the smile on his face you would have slapped it off him. The anger reminded him so much of the way you’d pant and knit your brows together when you were on top of him, grinding against his cock buried deep inside you. So much so, that he was already pressing uncomfortably against the confines of his pants. 

Now that you started you couldn’t stop, jabbing at his chest plate with a finger, “now I don’t know what the hell pissed you off so much, but we are not arguing about my property.” 

Din scoffed at you, not at all meaning it and watching as your face screwed up in frustration. He loved it.

“Yeah, it’s your property, thousands of credits worth of your property and you just, what, brushed it off?” he challenged, his heart raced and his chest started to heave under the force of his weighted breaths. The beskar grew unimaginably hot, sweat running down his back between the thick layers pressed suffocatingly tight against him. 

“Why do you want to leave so bad anyway?” You dodged the question effortlessly, “It’s safe here, you know that, and someone is always hiring.” 

You were right, he did know that. And he knew that this planet was safer than most you both end up stopping at. But when your eyes narrowed like that, your whole body thrumming with tension, he acted like it was an Imperial war zone. 

So he took a page out of your book. Leaning away from you, feeling like he’d run miles but desperately tried to seem casual as he reclined against the wall, the cold stone cooling him instantly. 

“Between this and fuel, you’re stretching yourself pretty thin, don’t you think? His response was catty and it made you blood boil under your skin. 

But absolutely no part of you wanted to continue the argument, it was pointless and only served to further your exhaustion. 

He watched the wave of fatigue wash over your face and you made a move to slide past him, “I’m staying out, don’t wait up.” 

His spine straightened and he quickly stepped in front of you again, “all I’m saying is,” he was close to you again, “you need a break, you just won’t let yourself take one.” 

He dropped the act immediately when you went to walk away. He wasn’t willing to let this all be for nothing and he didn’t want to have to try and explain himself under your suffocating gaze. So he tried to put his thoughts together in as little words as possible, but even then he felt they weren’t enough.

His voice crackled against the vocoder, thick and needlessly heavy as his helmet angled down at you. His tone was worlds different than it was seconds ago and it had you sputtering to a stop. You looked at him quizzingly, your shoulders falling. He stood in front of you, blocking any light from the neon light on the street, the artificial colors bouncing off of him menacingly as he loomed in your path. 

“A break? This is my job, Mando.” You grit out, “You want me to drop everything and call it a day?” 

“No,” He said simply, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t get angry.” 

“Getting angry doesn’t help anything.” You huff pointlessly, hands curling into fists at your side. 

His demeanor changed within seconds, no longer needlessly aggressive, he was suddenly on an entirely different plane of understanding than you. His thumb hung loosely from his belt as he tilted his head down at you, and it threw you off completely. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was smirking at you. 

“Neither does brushing it off.”

You shake your head, gathering enough willpower to break away from the Mandalorian’s orbit, “A break is more than I can afford right now, Mando.” 

“Then let me give you one.” 

You watched his chest rise and fall with a severity that made you more concerned that you were willing to admit. He was wound so tightly you think if you flicked him he’d go bouncing against the wall. The black visor angled down, tracking your every breath as you stood so suffocatingly close you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You couldn’t wrap your head around why his attitude changed so suddenly and- oh.

You take a second to evaluate. Of course he wasn’t suggesting or trying to suggest what you thought he was, no of course not because there is absolutely no reason why he’d go about it this way. You’ve fucked the Mandalorian. Frequently and extensively, so much so that it was shameful and with that being said, this was far enough outside the proverbial box that it made your brain short-circuit. 

He watched you go through just about all five stages of grief impressively fast as you stared up at him dumbly, ending plainly in confusion. 

The Mandalorian was nothing if not persistent, however, “You are allowed to, you know,” his tone was dark but sounding almost thoughtful, “get as frustrated as you want and-let go.”

His voice softened around the words, leaning down to hover over your ear and you wish you could have stopped the shiver that ran down your spine. It was hard to think with him so close, your chests brushing ever so slightly as your mind scrambled to fit together a proper response. 

“So you pissed me off, for what?” You hiss out, shifting your weight from leg to leg. 

“Because it’s obvious that all you need is someone to make you cum,” He purred above you and you choke on your retort, “to help you blow off some steam.” 

The most undignified noise wretched its way out of you and your mouth all but hung open. 

He stalks, slowly, to the left. The inky blackness of his visor is not leaving your face as he moves behind you, “Let someone else handle you for awhile.” 

You freeze up and swallow hard on the absolutely pathetic moan threatening to climb out of your throat. His stare pinned you to the spot as he worked his way around you. Completely torn between confusion and arousal, your mind was running circles around itself.

“If you’d let me.” His touch was searing as he gently placed a large palm between your shoulders, fingers coming up to brush against the base of your neck. 

“And you thought this was the best way to go about it?” Your voice sounded pathetically small. 

Your eyes followed the grooves of his armor as he came back into view, dropping your pack at your feet, visor not moving from your face. Fiendishly, your eyes dropped to the hard length pressing against the front of his trousers. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Absolutely not.” Your voice gave you away immediately and he knew it. 

“After all that-” He gestured vaguely before reaching out more gently than you ever thought he could, “You wouldn’t want the chance to just- not have to think? J-just for a little while.” 

He was giving you an out, an opportunity to shut this down and walk away. Dangling it in front of your face- dangling himself in front of you until you could feel yourself salivating. 

His touch was all the more grounding, fingertips resting lightly on your forearm before sweeping down to your hand. The frustration and lust melted together and your thighs clench together uncomfortably, breathing heavily as your pulse spiked under your skin. The stabilizer, the credits, all of it just about threw itself out of your mind until all that was left was him. Offering to take care of you in a way you wouldn’t allow most others to. 

You nod your head, slowly at first. There wasn’t a more tantalizing prospect in your eyes as excitement and arousal burned in your veins. Now, there wasn’t anything you wanted more than having his suffocating presence above you in every way. Slowly, he watched the wide-eyed confusion and aggravation drain from your face, only to be replaced by the impish narrowed eyes and how the down turned pull on your pout began to melt away. 

He was a blur when his hands were on you again, pulling you back towards the mouth of the alleyway. The hand on your back was firm and unwavering and his steps were quick and rushed as he herded you behind the crates you’d been perched upon only hours before.

You didn’t fight his quick stride and quickly became more and more aware of the darkness in the alley, swallowing the rays of light streaming through the cramped buildings. 

The Mandalorian was still before you, save for the rise and fall of his chest and twitch of his fingers against your bicep. Crowding you against the cold stone, Mando holds you still with a bruising grip and practically curls over you. 

“Not a word.” His tone leaves little room for argument as you are boxed in between him and the copious amount of storage crates. His visor dips down to you slowly and you feel your cunt clench down on nothing. He doesn’t give you the chance to respond when he tugs incessantly at your jacket and pulls it off your body. 

“Do you have any idea how aggravating it is just- watching you sometimes?” He huffs, sounding like he was talking more to himself than to you, voice thick and low as he tosses away your outer layers. But you couldn’t bite your tongue hard enough before the words or spilling out. 

“We shouldn’t- Mando we shouldn’t be doing this here-” You start, glancing hesitantly down the alley when his hand darts up, gripping your jaw in an iron grip. 

Your gasp is loud as your hand slaps against his wrist. He snaps your face toward him again, marveling at your widened eyes and he imagined them teary and dazed as you looked up at him. 

“I said,” His cock throbs against the confines of his trousers as he brings his face down to yours, “not a word.” 

You swallow hard, increasingly aware of his hands proximity to your throat and just how easily he could crush your windpipe. You fought against your body’s natural flight response, staying rooted to the spot. You nod hard, keeping your mouth firmly shut. 

He pauses, studying the rapid rise and fall of your chest and your mused hair, before releasing you. Seemingly satisfied, he resumes his deliberate ministrations with an aching slowness that was deeply unfit for being hidden away in an alley.

“Let me- let me do this for you,” Your belt is slid out from around your waist and onto the ground, “Don’t move.” If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was threatening you with his tone, not rambling before fucking you against a wall. The silence only amplified every rustle of fabric, making you more and more vulnerable when your holster and rifle were unclasped from your body and set down with enough care to make your face burn. 

Your eyes flicked up to the visor and he waited for another outburst. You kept your mouth obediently shut though, eyes gazing up at him softly. 

The soft exhale was caught on the static, “ Good.” 

Your face flushed embarrassingly under the praise, breath hitching in your throat. You are left dizzy and in far less clothing than you should be for standing, sandwiched between two streets in the middle of the night. The thought made you flush, being reminded of those thoughtless romps behind bars with faceless patrons; when someone could have rounded the corner and easily see what was going on. That same rush of adrenaline made your hands shake as you kept them balled tightly in the hem of your shirt.

It felt different, filthy and unfamiliar with the Mandalorian but fuck if it wasn’t phenomenal to feel his presence blanketing over you like this. He towered over you with such intensity and ease at the same time and it made your pussy far wetter than it had any business being. 

He sees the moment your eyes lose their hardness and glass over, unfocused and dazed. The gratification went straight to his dick, the gratification of being able to work you over like this and have you pliant under his grip. 

His hands swept down the sides of your body, gloved fingers dipping under the thin cotton fabric of your shirt. His hands radiated heat, even through the leather gloves as they danced over the skin of your hip and up to brush against the swell of your breast. Your whine echoed down the alley embarrassingly loud when his fingers drew tight, soft circles over your nipple. His touch burned through you and you could feel the sweat gathering on your neck the longer his touch lingered on the sensitive bud. 

He slots his thigh between your legs roughly and you rise on your tiptoes to accommodate him. Softly, his hands wander down to your hips, only to grip them bruisingly hard and anchor you to his thigh. The icy cold of his thigh plate pressed into your burning core and you jerk away at the sensation, your puffy lips sensitive to the temperature. Mando, however, simply moved your hips back over him again. Your clothed heat dragged along the length of his thigh roughly as he moved your hips where he wanted them.

“Relax.” was his only demand when his helmet angled down, watching where you sat perched on his thigh. The friction was delicious and you could feel the bumps and ridges as they deftly nudged your clit. You suffer quietly, a whine high in your throat as he moves your hips, forgoing trying to make you grind down of your own volition and opting to do the work for you. Your own wetness clung to you uncomfortably as your clit is dragged over the ridges and grooves and- stars it shouldn’t feel as good as it does. 

He shushed you sweetly, a stark contrast in the way his hands are ripped away from your skin before turning you around roughly. Your hands come up and slap against the cold stone, a gasp catching loudly in your throat. 

“S-shhh,” His forearm comes around your sternum, pulling you up against his chest.

He pulls away, and extends his arms around you. Coming up between your face and the wall, he held his gloved hands out to you silently. Prompting you to take them off, he waited silently for your hands to slide down from the wall, tugging hastily on his ring finger and rolling the leather off his skin. Your eyes tilted up along with your head, obediently looking away from the olive skin being revealed below your nose. The small noise of approval from him had your pussy drooling fiendishly.

You gripped his gloves tightly, not willing to let them drop to the ground, in the case someone does in fact find you both. His hands make their hastily return to the waistband of your pants and push past it. 

Eagerly pushing aside your panties, his fingers skim the seam of your pussy and your knees buckle on contact. Your breath puffs out in front of you, a small cloud of steam hanging in the air as you try and smother a moan when his fingers push deeper and split you open. 

Your wetness coats his fingers and your whine is drowned out by his broken groan. Your back arches when his fingers circle around your clit, your ass plush with his hips and you could feel just how hard he was through the thick canvas. 

“Look at that,” Din marveled, his head so close to your ear you could almost hear his unmodulated voice under the vocoder. His boots knocked between your feet, parting them easily and pushing you forward into the wall, “You are s-so wet.”

Your moan came out much louder before you could swallow it but the Mandalorian’s hand snuffed the sound quickly, slapping over your mouth. His fingers never stopped their assault on your clit, pressing down harder as he crowded you against the wall.

“One more fucking sound and I stop.” His hisses in your ear and whips his hand out of your pants and away from your face. You clench your jaw and breath out hard through your nose before his hands rip the fabric down over your ass. Your palms meet the edge of the crate when you are pressed against it, your thighs smothered against wood and bent over with a firm hand on your back.

You’re left bent over a crate that is far too tall for you and pants shucked off halfway down your legs, your panties being mercilessly ripped down with them. You hear Mando behind you, the buckle of his belt clashing loudly in the alley. 

Your feet barely brush against the ground when you try and pull yourself forward, scrambling to try and ground yourself with something and- 

The hot, blunt head of his cock brushes against your sopping heat and your eyes roll into your head.

He stands still, the head of his cock just barely prodding your entrance. Din openly gaped under the helm as he spread your slick over the tip of his cock, mouth open in a half snarl as he ruts wetly against you. He shushes you before you even realize you are making noise , his hand coming up to clamp tightly over your mouth the moment he finally pushes into your cunt. 

Your head hangs low, biting down hard on your lip to smother your cry at the heavenly intrusion You feel the air being punched out of your lungs as he inched his length inside you and you clamp down tightly. Your cunt was a vice grip around his cock and his grunt echoed loudly as he worked you open. You whimper into his hand when a particularly hard shove left you burning, you cunt squeezing down painfully. 

“Shit, shit r-relax - you need to relax,” his hands came down hard on your hips and his voice cracked as he pulled his hips back. His hands smoothed up your back and down your sides again and you did your very best to try and find your breath again. You were hyper aware of the noises echoing down the street and the stumble of the occasional passerby. The lights reached long down the alley and just barely grazed your outstretched fingertips, flickering with each stumbling bar patron, each one spiking your heart rate. 

Your heart pounded loud in your ears, sucking in a shaky breath when Mando rolled his hips against you. Pushing past your lips again and sliding in with far more ease, the grievous sound of your drenched heat pulling him deeper burned your ears.

“There you go,” Mando’s sigh crackled hard through the modulator as he sunk into you, “you can take it…” his hand sunk down between your legs and brushed exquisitely against your clit. He bottoms out quickly, hands pushing you down so hard the crate bites into your tummy painfully but then he’s angling his hips down and begins fucking into you steadily. Hips flush against your ass, he grinds himself into you with a choked moan. 

“ There ,” he cooed, “look at you,” he marveled quietly, his thrusts punctuating every word, “Ju-just opening right up for me, sweet girl.” He was loud- way too loud when there are people right-

He pulls all the way out, the tip hanging on the edge of your entrance, before plunging back roughly. 

You hand slapped over his uselessly, trying to smother your own cry as he rocked into you agonizingly slow and pressing exquisitely deep inside you. 

Din knows he should be moving a lot faster, getting you off a little quicker but absolutely no other part of him wanted to work you open any faster than he already was. He was dizzy as he stroked into your cunt, basking in the heavenly grip you had on his cock. 

He was rocking into you too nonchalantly, easing into you too steadily to be fucking you in the middle of an alley, but any air you had left is being punched out of your lungs too quickly to even begin to babble to him. 

It was intoxicating the way you practically sucked him in and he couldn’t help but lean into you a little bit harder. Your delightful whine was deeply rewarding and had his cock throbbing hard inside you. 

His thrusts come faster, rubbing deeply on something white hot and blazing inside you. His gloves, still held tightly in your hand, are knocked away when he lurches forward. They fall to the ground uselessly as he wraps his hands around yours, white-knuckling the crate below you with your hand trapped under his. Thankful for something to at least try to hang on to while your body is flattened on the crate.

“Ju-just let me give it to you- , ” He babbles at you before cutting himself off with a groan so deep you can feel his chest vibrate against your back, “ Fuck-k h-how are you so fucking good.” He rambles as your walls flutter around him, seemingly unconcerned about how vocal he was being. 

But you can’t fucking breath let alone try to string together enough words to tell him to stop being so goddamn loud when he’s hammering into you with enough force that the crate creaks alarmingly underneath you. 

Everything clamps down unbelievably tight and you claw desperately at his forearms and grip his fingers so hard that, somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re afraid you might break them. The blazing hot wave of bliss that crashes over you has you spasming hard on his cock. 

His hips stutter when your walls clamp down, hot and wet. He pushes through, continuing his brutal thrusts as the flagrant sound of your cunt is deafening in the choked silence. He bore down on you harder, the beskar biting into your skin. 

“Yes- fuck yes, that’s a good fucking girl-” He gushes incessantly as he continues to drive into you and-

Suddenly, the lights around you brightened alarmingly and before he could think about it, he’s hauling you up and into the corner. 

You barely have the time to suck in a breath when your world spins dangerously and your hands scramble against the smooth edge of the crate.

You’re spun around and shoved precariously on top of a crate further down, effectively cloaking you both in the shadows of the stacked storage bins. He slips out of you in the moment and cages you, your thighs still draped over his hips and you both stand stone still. 

You didn’t even dare breath, your hands balling up in his chest as you listened intently. A hurried shuffle of footsteps meets your ears and a droning conversation that passes quickly.

The pointed silence passes when there’s no noise and the light passes deftly over the alley, leaving you both cloaked in darkness, alone again. Your gasping breaths parted the tense silence as you released your iron grip on the Mandalorian. 

You relax, body sagging down as the Mandalorian turned his attention back to you. He releases his steely grip on your bicep and you hear the uneven sigh crackle heavily through the modulator. Your hands shake under the adrenaline coursing through your body, a wiry smile pressed your cheeks as you gaze up at him. Your hips shift on the crate and you are practically cradled in his lap, abruptly grinding against his throbbing length resting over your swollen lips. 

You’re gasping at the sensation when Din slings your leg over his forearm, angling his hips to glide over your soaked lips. The adrenaline working its way out of your systems and your orgasm spikes up hard and fast when he rubs his cock against your clit. 

He could hardly help the way he groaned when he slipped back into your cunt, rocking into you desperately as you eagerly swallow his cock again. He doesn’t bother building up his strokes, instead he flattens himself against you and hammers himself down into you. Your arms come up around his neck in a meager attempt to try and steady yourself from his forceful thrusts. Your vision flashes white in the darkness as he pushes up against something divine in you. 

“One more.” He whined against your ear, “You can give me one more.”

Your cry is too loud and you bite down on your lip hard enough to taste blood as Mando rails into you. His hand slips down your body to toy wetly with you clit, watching himself drill in and out of you. Your drawn out moans are replaced by short, whimpering mewls, his cock punching them out of you viciously. He feels your walls flutter violently around him and his hips stutter in their relentless pace, having to put his back into every enticing thrust.

Your fingers gripped anywhere they found gaps in his armor, curling around the bottom of his neck and pressing yourself greedily against him. Din dutifully worked you open over and over, drawing tight circles over your clit until your eyes watered.

You faintly hear voices a ways away but the noise was far away in your ears as the Mandalorian worked you open. His name was a twisted whimper on your lips as your body clamped down on him wetly. 

“Man- do mmh,” Your cry is garbled when you whine his name, your body trying its damndest to squirm away from his merciless onslaught. 

Your chin is seized roughly and your face snapped back to his, “No, o-oh no no, look at me.” your eyes watered from the pummeling force of his cock as you meet his eyes behind the visor.

His demand burns a hole through you and you feel yourself teetering on the edge of world-shattering bliss at his words. The ferocity in which you squeeze his cock had him choking on his words before he even got them out. 

Your head lolls back and your choking sob is pitiful at best. Fighting to get air back into your lungs, you practically claw the back of his neck and shoulders as the crate beneath you creaks dangerously.

His own orgasm spikes up hard and he’s driving himself deeper and further into you, working you roughly through your star-shattering orgasm. You are hardly even aware you’re chanting his name, whimpering it over and over - 

Your hand clamps down hard over your mouth as you shudder on his cock. 

“ Go-od, my sw-sweet fucking girl” Above you, Din’s voice is breathless and riddled with arousal as he pounded down into you, his praise almost completely drowned out by the measured clapping of his hips against yours.

His grip turns to steel before burying himself deep, your name is falling reverently from his lips as he spills inside you. Incoherently murmuring praise to you as he continues to stroke into you, your body shuddered as your aching pussy eagerly swallowed every greedy thrust.

His hips stutter to a stop with a shaky exhale that crackled through the modulator, cool beskar resting against your heated temple when he makes no move to pull away.

You are boneless, leaning heavily against the crate behind you as you struggled to get enough air into your lungs and holy shit- your legs shook when he rocked into you for a final time. 

You shiver at his cock leaving you with a whine, already feeling your mess smearing on the inside of your thighs. 

The sound of the nightlife swarmed you as you came back to yourself, Mando making quick and gentle work of pulling your pants back up over your hips. 

He eases you down off the crate, your things are swept off the ground and your jacket is swung around your shoulders. Your thighs shake under your weight, a dull ache flaring to life, helmet nuzzling your temple as he steadies you. 

He utters words of apology but you wave them away, leaning into his side when your arms are brought through your sleeves. 

“Just- ask me next time, asshole.” 

The ‘ next time’ bit rang in his ears and his shoulders shook when he chuckled.

The trek back to the hanger was spent tight against the Mandalorian’s side, your stride slowed but neither of you minded, if anything it eased your racing pulses. You followed him out of the alley, relief bubbling in your chest at the sight of the barren street. 

You felt weightless as Din helped you float back to the hanger, offering endless streams of praises and seeking reassurance that everything was okay. You eagerly worked to convince him that it was wonderful but made him promise not to pull that kind of shit again, insisting he simply had to ask. He grinned cheekily behind the helm as he maintained his position on justifying his pursuit. 

Strolling through the doors, you were greeted by a stocky older humanoid, who’s joyful voice bellowed across the hanger at you. You jump, tearing your eyes away from the Mandalorian, clearly not expecting company at this hour. 

“My friend!” He meandered across the hanger to you, “you must accept my apology about the coolant system,” He looked approvingly at you and you let out a breath, “compensation is already in the works.” He assured you, waving the datapad in his hand before pushing it toward you. The blinking box prompts you for a signature. 

“You treat us good here,” He says sweetly, “I’ll see to it you are properly compensated and sent on your way.” His eagerness was appreciated but truthfully, you weren’t hearing a word he was saying. Maxwell, the stocky information broker, meant well ninety nine point nine percent of the time but was always insufferably chatty.

“Not a problem, Maxwell, it’s much appreciated.” You say, your voice holding onto a slight rasp that made Din swoon as he hovered silently over your shoulder. 

He was, however, quick to grab your attention for himself once again, stepping forward and continuing to lead you to the safety of the Crest . You followed him dreamily, handing the forgotten datapad back earnestly.

The man called something after you but the Mandalorian had already opened the ramp to the Razor Crest and was maneuvering you onto the ship, ignoring your company completely.

You waved him a short goodbye, chirping something about promising him a perusal of your stock the following day but Din didn’t stick around long enough to hear the end as he efficiently tucked away your belongings into their proper places on his ship.

“Ah shit, wait- I-I should have had him call in the droids for-” You started for your datapad but was immediately pulled to the other side of the hull. 

“Later.” 

“But-” You dug your heels in, your tone dark in warning as you were led further into the ship and unceremoniously dragged towards a closed door.

“Forget it.” He insisted gruffly and sat you down on the edge of the cot you both shared.

And that’s what he made you do. For hours. Until you lay, blissfully ignorant to the waking world around you, watching the suns rise from across the hanger. 

You desperately hoped he wasn’t going to make a habit of this.


End file.
